Where no one sleeps

a land where no one sleeps,

no one ever wakes,

inundated in the petals of reverie,

encrusted with the hues of red,

each soul is profoundly embalmed

in the hymns, of requiem,

rendered by the wailing winds,

there is something about this place,

but there is nothing extraordinaire,

save, for what is felt and seen

.

This is tagged as the poem for 23 November for NaBloPoMo. I am linking it up with:

1. Transforming Friday with Nature’s Wonders Prompt

2. Friday Flash 55

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